What He Found in the Midnight Halls
by daydream1000
Summary: Sometimes, what we least expect has the most profound effects. The war is raging and loyalties are uncertain. Who can you really trust when secrets are revealed? Rating is just to be safe.
1. Pansy

_I do not own any of the following characters _

He thought about her. A lot. More than he should. He would lie awake at night, not able to sleep. He would pace the halls. No one questioned it; after all, this was war. They gave him his space; let him sit in the hall, staring absently. They assumed he was thinking about tactics, second-guessing the other side, running lists through his head. They would never guess she was thinking about her, scuffling about down stairs, washing the dishes, cleaning the common rooms, preparing meals to reheat when desired. She mended torn robes, dusted and scrubbed. After just a few months of her presence, the place was livable, almost cozy. She had started an herb garden in what used to be the solar. She worked alone, eyes averted if others passed. At first, he believed it to be poetic justice at his finest. She had been so horrible in school, walking the halls like a princess, upturned nose high in the air. Now here she was, a servant girl to the order. Most of the older members ignored her, hardly aware of her presence as she brought them clean washing and scrubbed stains out of the carpet. It was almost easy to forget she was even there; she lived in the attic and usually operated all night, into the first light of the dawn. She hardly even spoke.

They still had no idea about her mother. That had been her plea. "Please. She had cried. "Please find my mother. I just need to know if she is even alive. I will do anything, please. I promise I will not leave here. Just try to do this one thing. Please." She had been too tragic to refuse.

No one expected her to serve any purpose. They all, Hermione especially, had expected her to sit around crying to herself. Or maybe hide in the attic room they had allotted her. Of course, she was not to hear a word of the order's business. No one trusted her. However, no one had anticipated what came next either.

It had begun with the dishes. The large stack in the basin sink was found one morning, spotlessly clean and neatly organized in a cupboard. The trend spread throughout the kitchen, the tilted floors free of grime, the cobwebs gone from the corners. Soon, they found spotless halls, dusted off bookshelves, and windows that actually emitted light. Tonks was the first to vocalize what everyone was thinking.

"Well of course it's her." Said Mad Eye. "What do you think she does scuffling about all night?"

The couches gained new duvets, made from old velvet curtains. She cleaned off boots and scrubbed toilets. She did this all, hardly making a sound. He wondered how a person could operate so quietly, he could count on his hand the number of words she spoke during any given week. Was it because she was too proud to speak to them, or was she afraid of everyone? She must have felt so alone, orphaned and without a friend. She began to remind him of his own early years.

He began smiling at her. At first, her eyes would widen and she would quickly look away. They were green, her eyes. A lovely dark shade of green. Mirroring his own. She slowly began to smile back, a small smile, but a genuine and pretty one. Sometimes he would catch her humming to herself.

One night, he found she had put a silence charm on the kitchen, muffling music she was dancing too as she cleared the dishes. Muggle music. He knew the song well. _And when you get the chance, you are the dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen, Dancing queen, feel the beat on the tambourine, oh yeah…_ He wondered how she knew it.

He asked Draco what she was like. Draco would only shrug, taking another drag of his cigarette. "Like I bloody know what is going through her head." He said, "I knew her as a child. We have all changed since school. She was mostly attention grubbing and bitchy, I think to make up for her complete lack of any talent in school. She's really not clever at all, everyone knows it."

Well, you are still an arrogant prat, he thought as Draco put out his cigarette on a newly polished end table. Nothing had changed with him. And after the war, they would go back to detesting each other without reservation, no common enemy to unite them.

She had appeared back in their lives so suddenly; it had left him little time to consider it. Their had been a raid, of course he wasn't allowed to participate, he was too important to loose in something like a rescue mission. Three ministry members, whom he had never met, all captured by the dark side for information. The mission had been more then a success, the retuned party entered yelling about how they had freed four. Everyone had crowded around to see a unconscious and bruised Pansy Parkinson, cradled in Lupin's arms.

"I'll ask you one more time, why were they holding you?" Moody had asked her.

"I didn't know where he was. I still don't" She finally spoke, not looking up from the floor. She was obviously shaken, the evidence of abuse all to clear in her damaged face and limp hair.

"Who?" asked Moody, "Malfoy?"

"No." she whispered. "My father. He left us. He ran. I didn't know where he was. They said I was a liar. A traitor like him. That's why they took me. I don't know where my family is."

She then looked up, fear consuming her face. "Please," she asked. "Find my mother."

Her face had healed since then. Healed all except a long slash mark, starting from the outer corner of her eye to her cheek.

"That mark will most likely be permanent." Molly Weasley had sighed. "It's too bad for a young thing to be left with such a scar."

Later, on the night of the raid, he found her in the kitchen, staring into a mug of steaming tea. He got one himself and sat across from her.

"Lupin says you were very brave. That you were found first, and told him where the others were. He said you didn't even try to run away."

"I like him." She had replied, not looking up. "He was a good teacher."

"I'm sorry," he said "about your family."

"Family." She muttered back. But then looked up and said,

"Do you remember Millicent Bulstrode?"

How could he forget.

"We are first cousins. Our mothers are sisters. But I cannot stand her, or her mother. They were always so horrible to me. All through school Millicent insisted on teasing and tormenting me."

"I have a cousin." He said. "A great bullying git. His mother was mine's sister as well. So much for family I guess."

She looked back into her cup and smiled slightly. "My mother told me something once, after our first year. When I told her you were in my year."

He looked at her intently.

"She told me her own mother had a sister. Rebellious girl, married a quidditch seeker who the family didn't approve of. In time, she had one son, who in turn had one son. You."

He stared at her, wide eyed.

"All purebloods are interrelated in some way. The Weasley's are distant cousins on my father's side. So is Draco. It's just, other than Millicent, you are my closest living relative."

"I never knew a lot about my father's family." He replied, looking down at his own tea. Just that he was a pureblood, and an only child. So your mother, the woman you want us to find, she's my father's first cousin?"

Pansy nodded.

"Well, well I…" he started

"So much for family I guess." She replied.

He didn't tell anyone about the conversation. Maybe they knew already, and it wasn't really their business anyway. He thought about the mirror from first year. Had he seen her in it, an unnoticed face in the family he so longed for?

But still this was war. And no one trusted her. She never said anything and hardly looked anyone in the eyes. But she stayed. His cousin. She stayed and the house became clean and he was left to brood. He thought about magic bloodlines, and ancestors that he never knew. Potter ancestors. Pansy's great aunt, his own grandmother. And, especially at night, he thought about her.

_I have reposted this after a friend helped me fix the grammar. English grammar still tricks me sometimes but I like to get it right. Thanks! Much love. _


	2. Who We Were: I

_I own nothing that follows_

**When I was young I knew everything…**

**- The Verve Pipe "The Freshmen" **

He still found solitude comforting. He was so alone as a child, preferring isolation to the company of his Aunt, Uncle, and especially Cousin. He knew to keep quiet, how to stay out of the way. He found ways to take care of and occupy himself, solving puzzles upside down, reading books backwards and making up new beginnings for them. He had places he would hide for hours, and loose himself in his dreams. He was always dreaming. Even when he was wide-awake, he would dream. Of a far away place where he could finally feel like he belonged. He would have run to this place, if he only knew how to find it. He certainly did not belong at his Uncle's home; that was as clear as day. Even at school, he was cut off from others and teased by his cousin's bulling friends. And it wasn't just this that made him feel alone. He was different from the others somehow. He couldn't place it, it was a feeling he had no words to describe.

So he waited, and dreamed. Dreamed of that place, just beyond his grasp, where he could finally feel whole. But mostly, he dreamed of having a real friend. Someone who could understand him, who knew what he needed without words being spoken. Usually, he imagined a girl. She laughed a lot. She liked the same games, jokes, and stories. She was his best friend, his confidant, his sister. He knew she was out there; it was just a matter of finding her. And he knew, once he did, he would never feel alone again.

Years later, he would remember this dream and wonder. He now knew why he had felt so detached from the other children. Yet, this girl, this long lost sister, he had never found her. And still he was so at ease when alone.

He had a favorite spot in the house, a corridor on the second floor that ended in a large window. There was a bench, with a large velvet cushion on it. At night, he would sit and stare at the sky, imagining what could have been if only…

And then she would appear. As the weeks passed she came more and more regularly. She was cleaning the hall, dusting the portraits and scrubbing the floors. The portraits screamed at her at first, called her a blood traitor who whored herself to mudblood filth. How dare she lower herself to the status of a house elf and serve them? She ignored it initially, head bowed. But one night, she dropped her rag and stood up.

"You know nothing of betrayal." She sneered. "Speak to me again and I will burn your image to cinders."

She was good on her word. When a small picture of a hollow faced old woman in far too much black lace called her a worthless slut, she took a candle to the portrait. Molly Weasley had stopped her before the image was totally destroyed. Now all that was left was the woman's head and right shoulder. The paintings had been silent at night ever since. She still dusted them, their occupants looking away in rage and terror.

She would come to his hall nightly, or at least whenever he was there. She would not say anything, not unless spoken to first. Some nights he would ignore her, some he would watch her clean. And sometimes, for no reason at all, he would tell her things, things he had never really told another soul.

"You are an only child right?" He asked.

"Yes."

"Did you ever feel isolated as a kid? Or did you have like, a witches play group?"

She smiled. "I was alone a lot as a girl. We lived in a large house with so many rooms. There was beautiful furniture that no one ever sat on. It was so pristine, I felt like I wasn't to touch anything."

"Like nothing was really yours?" He asked.

"It all was family heirlooms. Some days I though they meant more to my father than I did. It was cold in the house. Very big and empty and cold. I used to hide in an open nook under the stair with a blanket. I'm sorry." She suddenly said. Looking up at him. "I should not burden you with stupid girlhood stories. I grew up very privileged. Its not lady like to complain."

"I don't mind." He smiled. "I was a lonely kid too."

_I've decided to continue this, to see where it takes me. As always, feedback/input is appreciated. Much Love. _


	3. Who We Were: II

_I do not own anything that follows._

He was never really alone during the night. Of course, there was her, but Lupin also operated at night, as did Moody, pacing the halls and pouring over maps and documents. He knew there were others. Ginny would often come. She wouldn't say anything, just sit next to him, rest her head on his shoulder, and stare out at the sky. As if she were trying to find whatever he was looking for for him. Sometimes, Hermione would join him; tell him stories of things that she had overheard or what she thought of situations. But when Pansy would arrive, Hermione fell silent, a sour look on her face. Once, Pansy had accidentally kicked over a bucket, the soapy water flooding the hall. Pansy had stared in alarm.

"Well?" Hermione yelled. "Clean it up, don't just stand there like an idiot!"

Pansy scurried off for more rags.

"That wasn't very nice." said Harry.

"Oh, like she doesn't deserve it." replied Hermione. "Stupid cow. She's not really on our side. You of all people should be suspicious of her."

Should he be? He had no reason to trust her. Yes, she was his cousin, but what did that even count for? Dudley was his cousin as well and that relationship was worthless. Still, he couldn't help thinking she needed him.

"Don't you even remember what she was like in school?" Hermione had sighed.

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Later, he racked his mind, for a first memory of her. He remembered meeting Draco, in the robe shop. Ron, outside the train platform. Hermione, barging into their train compartment. Even Luna, on the train ride fifth year. All such distinct first impressions. But Pansy, she was always just there; a simple extension of Draco in school. He didn't even think they had ever been formally introduced.

Fourth year, he remembered her from fourth year. She had insulted Hermione in Rita Skeeter's article. She laughed a lot. She was Draco's date to the Yule Ball. She supported Umbridge in the fifth year… He had nearly forgotten. And suddenly he was furious.

He got up, and jogged up the flights of winding stairs to the attic. To hell with it being midday, he needed to talk with her straight away. He burst the door open but was stopped by with he found. Light poured in through a skylight. The walls and been painted purple with accents of blue. The room was so homey, he could hardly believe it was dank and cluttered only weeks before. And there she was, dozing on a large mattress covered in a purple duvet.

Her eyes fluttered but when she saw him, she sat bolt upright.

"Harry!" she exclaimed. "I'm sorry of I took something for the room I shouldn't have."

"Drop the act." He said sternly. "Umbridge."

"What?"

"You heard me." He said. "You were in Umbridge's little squad fifth year."

"Yes I was." She replied.

He continued to stare at her.

"Is that it?" she asked. "Or would you like to list more of my mistakes?"

More staring.

"I was fifteen. She came to us, in our common room, during fifth year. I didn't want to get involved, but she took me aside. Do you believe in Potter? She asked. You know what sticking around him gets you? Look what Diggory got. If you want my protection Miss Parkinson, you better do as I say."

"Why should I believe a word of that?" Harry glared. "Why should I even trust you?"

"Why should I trust you?" she asked. "Every day could be my last here. I know more than one of you wants me gone. I'm not deaf, you know." She looked away.

"If I couldn't stay here, I'd have nowhere to go. And they would find me. And they would kill me. I'd never see my mother again. And that's all there is to it."

"But why…" He started.

"I wanted to trust the ministry. Aren't we supposed to trust what they say? I didn't want to join either side, I just…. I just wanted to be."

Harry looked at her blankly.

"Are we finished?" She asked. "I'd like to get some rest."

Later, that night he approached her in the kitchen, his hands shoved in his pockets as he stared at the floor.

"I'm sorry." He said "I shouldn't have attacked you like that."

"You have nothing to apologize for." She replied, glaring at the dirty counter. "Ask Draco for an apology sometime, and see what you get."

"Did you?" he asked.

"I asked him some things." She replied. "And all he told me was to go finish the washing."

"I always thought you two…well, you were his date to the ball, and I just thought… you were together."

"No." she whispered, looking down.

Harry started to walk away.

"He didn't dance with me." She said.

He turned around to face her.

"That night, I sat on a bench and waited for him to ask me to dance. He never did."

"I didn't have a very good time at that ball either." Said Harry.

"You didn't?" she asked. "But you were a champion, a star. Everyone was so jealous; you should have seen Draco's face as you sat at the high table."

Harry smiled. "Well, to tell the truth I didn't even notice. I guess I was too busy dwelling on what I didn't have and not thinking about what I did. I'd give anything for a fun night now."

"There will be other dances." She replied. "When this war is over."

"I hope so." He said. "And I am sorry, for yelling at you."

"I'm sorry too." She said. "For the things I did that hurt you."

Harry smiled, and began to walk away again.

"Harry?" she asked. "Next time, will you ask me to dance?"

_To Be Continued. Thanks for reading and any feedback. Much Love. _


	4. Hermione

She could not understand why they let her stay. She hated her. Alright, hate was a bit of a strong word. She thought she was vain, snobbish, cruel, and ignorant. Nothing could redeem the girl. Pansy Parkinson, in her mind, was the lowest of the low. A coward and a sneak. A manipulative lair to boot. She saw it with her own eyes. How she would gaze so helplessly at Harry, trying to win some sympathy. Cleaning the headquarters and acting so innocent and alone. The veil she hid behind was just too transparent, and her little game made Hermione sick. She remembered. She remembered how Pansy was in school, always parading around, nose in the air, laughing and gossiping. Little Miss Priss, born with everything. In Hermione's eyes, Pansy was getting just what she deserved. Let her feel like dirt for a while, see how she liked it.

She argued with Harry about her.

"I don't understand why she's so offensive to you now." He said. "She doesn't even talk. Can't even look you in the eye."

"Still too good for me, I see." Hermione sneered.

"Maybe she's afraid of you." He suggested. "Try being nice to her, that's what I do."

"Oh, like she'll be nice back. She's so fake, Harry. And she's up to something too. I'll bet you anything she's up to something."

Harry sighed heavily and walked away.

"She's just using you!" Hermione yelled at his back.

"She's not clever enough for that, Granger." came a drawling voice from behind.

"Malfoy!" she exclaimed. "How long have you been there?"

"You shouldn't worry about Parkinson." He said, leaning up against the door frame. "Do you think she'd be here if she wasn't at the end of her rope?"

"I…"

"You think everyone is as clever as you, Granger. Half the minds in this house combined don't equal you."

"Malfoy…" she asked. "Did you just… pay me a compliment?"

"Just stating facts Granger. You were born with many gifts. But often people are born with much more than they deserve."

"So I guess you don't deserve a penny of your wealth." She shot back.

"Maybe you're right." He replied. "I've noticed you often are."

"Why should I even listen to you?" she asked. "This could all be some horrible plot, you and her in league…"

"It could be." He said. "But, then again maybe not. Maybe we're planning to bring this place down from the inside. But maybe, just maybe, we want to dark lord gone as much as you do. He deemed me expendable. He killed my father. He took away the dignity of the Malfoy name. You don't think my desire for revenge is a great as Potter's?" He was staring at her, grey eyes stormy. "Pansy is no different, save for the fact she is too afraid to fight back."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak.

"But you." He stopped her. "You don't fight for revenge. Or for the thrill, as some here, believe you me, do. You fight because it's for what you see as right. You could have escaped, but you chose to stay and fight. It's fascinating."

"I am loyal to my friends." She replied.

"Then you should learn to trust their decisions." Draco replied, walking away. "It was Potter's decision to allow Pansy to stay."

Hermione was silent as left the room. But was thankful he couldn't see her when he called, "And by the way Granger, you should wear your hair pulled back more often. You look pretty when you can see your face."

She was thankful he didn't see her blush.


	5. What We Are: I

_I still own nothing that follows _

**No change, I can change, I can change, I can change,  
but I'm here in my mould , I am here in my mould.  
And I'm a million different people from one day to the next  
I can't change my mould, no, no, no, no…. **

**The Verve "Bittersweet Symphony" **

The war was lasting too long. It was the unspoken truth; a fact everyone knew but nobody could admit. Harry was restless. He had been ready for the final confrontation for years now, even in his sleep ready to face his nemesis for the last time. It was as if he were a runner, waiting for a starting gun that would never fire. He so wanted to plan for the future. But at the same time, he was growing increasing unsure if he had a future. It wasn't fair; he was cooped up in the house, never allowed to go on missions unless absolutely necessary. He was left to pace and await the other's return. He felt increasingly useless as the days passed. He felt they treated him like a child, not telling him details and making him remain behind. He was 22.

He did tell one of these complaints. He told the only more permanent resident of the house, she would have to understand. After all, she _never_ left, ever.

"Do you want any help?" He asked one night, as he watched her struggle with a full water bucket on the stairs.

"I'm alright, thank you." She replied coolly.

"Why don't you just use magic?" he asked. "That would be done in half the time."

"No thank you" she replied.

"Why?" he asked.

"I never have done anything like this." She said. "This is the first thing I've ever done that feels, well, real. It's almost… amazing." She paused. "Harry? Have you seen my garden?"

"Not recently."

"I don't really sleep all day." she said simply. "In the early afternoon, I work with my garden. Tomorrow, or whenever you want, please come see."

"I'll try my best." He replied with a smile.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

He did not intend to go right away, but the next day he found himself heading to the former solar.

It wasn't quite a garden, but it was incredible. Flowers growing in old pots and washtubs, Ivy growing up pillars onto the ceiling. Life was everywhere. She had filled the room with color as light poured in through the massive windows she had thoroughly cleaned. He wandered the room in silence, taking in what she had made. There was an other worldly quality about the place, as if he had just stepped into joy itself.

"Do you like it?" Came a voice from behind. She was standing amongst some roses. "I found the bulbs in the basement. I didn't know if there was life in them but look what happened. There was an old room full of this stuff, bulbs and seeds and everything. I asked Professor Lupin for the dirt. He is very kind.

"Pansy this is…so indescribable. You did all this?" Harry said.

"Its better than the clean house." She said, looking around. "It's better than anything I've ever done. The plants grew because I cared for them, with my own hands. This is here all because of me."

"Its wonderful Pansy." He replied. "What you've done. It's magic."

"No." she said, looking around the room. "This is better than magic. Much better."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

After that, in the mornings, he would go to the room just to sit. It was so peaceful, so full of life and hope. He could almost forget what was going on in the world outside. He soon found he wasn't the only one who thought so.

One rainy morning he found Lupin sitting amongst her lilies.

"Good morning." He said, as Harry approached. "Just can't stay away?" he asked.

"I can't seem to either." Continued Lupin, looking around. "She's really a kind girl. All this wouldn't be here if she wasn't."

"How could all this have happened?" Harry asked. "Plants like this would have taken years to grow."

Lupin smiled. "Despite her current dismissal of it, she is still a witch. Her own magic is affecting the plants; her devotion to this garden is making it grow. It's magic in its most simple, raw, and ancient form. It's beautiful really. And she doesn't even know she's doing it."

"Do you come up here often?" asked Harry.

"When I can." Lupin replied. "There's something comforting about it. The young Mrs. Weasley adores it."

"Wait, Fleur?"

"Yes." Answered Lupin. "She's grown fond of Miss Parkinson as well. Did you know Pansy speaks fluent French?"

"No. I…"

"I remember her from classes. She was so quiet and withdrawn. I first I thought she was as snobbish as the rest of her little gang. But then, she started staying after class and asking questions, things she was too afraid to ask during class. Poor thing, too afraid of being judged to even try."

"As I remember she was always surrounded by a laughing group." Harry replied.

"Sometimes we are most alone in a room full of people. Don't think you're the only one in the world who was ever misunderstood."

Before Harry could retaliate, Lupin had left, leaving Harry alone amongst the flowers.

_Thanks once again to readers. Any feedback is much appreciated! _


	6. What We Are: II

_I still own nothing here. _

She was the last. The only one left of the old group, of her closest circle of friends. She never had suspected she would be the last to die.

She had taken more and more to looking at ancient photos, of the four of them in their own school days. The prankster, Donald, the stunning Rachel, Albus, the genius, and herself, the shy and studious one. In the photo she now held they all stood together, happily waving as they boarded the train leaving school. Albus had always been the leader, the one with the craziest ideas that they all ended up going along with. What was she now, that he was gone? She would never admit it, but she felt like widow. Years ago, she thought it was over. Although the Order had stayed vigilant, she has just wanted it to be over forever. They had lost so much in the first war. Donald had fallen at the hands of Voldemort. Rachel had died of illness before the war, but her husband John was another death eater victim. And Albus…she tried never to think of that hideous night.

She had remained through it all, trying not to feel guilty about her own survival. She knew it was wrong to wish for death, but it seemed her time was nearing. She just could not stand to see any more go before her.

She was too lost in her thoughts, to realize she was crying. She was too preoccupied to notice she was no longer alone. Harry Potter was standing frozen in front of her, having entered what he thought was a vacant room.

"Professor… I'm so sorry…I…"

"It's alright Potter." She said.

He stared to back out of the room.

"Wait, Potter." She said. "I believe you will find this interesting." She said, gesturing to the photo.

Harry walked awkwardly over and gazed over her shoulder.

"This is me, as a fifth year student." She said, pointing to the thin girl with glasses. "These were my very dearest friends, Gryffindors from years ago. This is Donald Bell, whose granddaughter I believe followed his path as a successful Chaser."

"Was that professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked, referring to the tall boy in the foreground.

"Yes." She replied. "And the girl standing to my right, that is Rachel Goldberg. She ended up marring our seeker, a John Potter."

Harry's eyes widened.

"Your grandmother was one of my most cherished friends." She said quietly.

Harry continued to stare at the photo.

"I've been learning a lot about my family in the past few months." Said Harry.

"So you are aware Miss Parkinson…"

"Yes." Said Harry. "Pansy is my cousin. Did you know her grandmother?" He asked.

"Ruth." She replied. A few years my junior. "A Ravenclaw and a bit of a stuck-up, as I remember. Made a more finically prudent marriage choice and chose a Sytherin boy called Cohen."

"I wish I had known them." Said Harry quietly. "Any of them now."

"I wish you could have too Potter." She replied.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Harry walked silently down the dark hall, but stopped as he heard muffleled arguing through a door. He peered into the room to find Pansy and Draco, face to face, Draco sneering down at her as she looked away. Harry crept closer.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you damnit!" Draco was yelling. "Stop this stupid, false subservience, look at how much you're degrading yourself, you give up with magic!? You might as well just leave, you're already useless! Look at me, would you?!" He grabbed her chin and snapped it upwards.

At this, not stopping to even debate it, Harry burst into the room. Before Draco had had the time to register, Harry hit him hard, square in the side of his face. Draco stumbled backwards, hand covering his eye.

"Don't you touch her!" Harry screamed.

"Don't you touch her, go near her, if I catch you so much as looking at her wrong, I swear…" He continued, raising his fist.

"Common, Pansy." He said, placing an arm around her waist and leading her out of the room.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, running down the hall. "What in the world happened in there?"

"Bastard thinks he can do whatever he wants." muttered Harry. "I am so sick if it."

"What did you do?" she demanded.

"What did _I _do?!" asked Harry. "I'm not the one…"

"We cannot start fights amongst ourselves!" she exclaimed. "That's exactly how we'll fall apart! I just cannot believe you, after everything!" she stormed off in the other direction.

They stood in pained silence.

"Why _did_ you do that?" asked Pansy, finally.

"Don't tell me you're on his side of this…" he started.

"No. He's such an ass…" she replied. "But I still don't understand why you did that…"

"He can't treat you like that." He cut her off. "I won't let him get away with treating you like that."

She blushed and looked down.

"Pansy?" he asked. "Why did you cling to close to him in school?"

"I thought… well, it's stupid."

"What?"

"I was really rebelling against my mother."

"What?"

"She hated the Malfoys. She was appalled when she found out my father was his mother's, like third cousin. That distant and she still was disgusted. So guess what did to set her off. Besides, at the time I found him attractive." she smiled sadly.

"I wish I had known better. Now I'd give anything just to see her again."

"It will be alright, Pansy." He said, reaching out and taking her hand.

She smiled and squeezed back.

They stood like that in silence for several moments.

"Your hands are cold." He said abruptly. "Let's get you some tea."

He did not let her go as they walked through the darkness.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"That's bloody freezing Granger." He moaned as placed the cold compress to his face.

"It's your own fault." She replied. "Men are so stupid, I swear."

"I didn't do anything, Potter attacked me!" he shot back. "He has a violent temper that's going to get him in trouble one of these…"

"Harry is under a lot of stress," she cut in. "All that's expected of him, it must be overwhelming."

"That's no excuse." He replied.

"And you have an excuse for your behavior?" she asked. "I'm surprised you're even letting me help you. I know what you think of me."

"And what is that?" he asked.

"Oh please." She rolled her eyes. "Unworthy, worthless, dirty…"

"In school, you terrified me." He interrupted.

"Excuse me?"

"I was always taught those like you were worthless. But you, you had such power. I could sense it. You captivated me. I thought about you all the time, you know." He continued. "You were always best at everything, how you could do things I could not understand. Like in third year, I swear Granger, it seemed like you were always in two places at once. Once I saw you walk into a classroom and, mere moments later, I saw you come out of a stairwell. I was really terrified of you."

She started at him, mouth open.

"And despite my best efforts," he said, "You were never afraid of me. I so wanted you to be as afraid of my power as I was scared of yours."

"Malfoy…I…" She started.

"These hands." He said, absently covering her hand with his.

"Power I could never achieve." He leaned in close and whispered. "Power, by fifth year, I craved."

He closed the distance between them and kissed her, deeply and intensely.

Neither noticed as the cold compress fell to the floor.

_Thanks to all my readers! Much Love. _


	7. What We Are: III

The next evening, Harry awoke to yelling downstairs. But for once it was in celebration. The Weasley brothers had returned.

Harry jogged down to the entrance hall where are large group had gathered around the three boys. Fleur was already in the arms of her husband, crying happily. Charlie was talking cheerfully with Tonks and Lupin. And Molly was nearly strangling her youngest son, sobbing and laughing all at once.

Ron approached Harry as soon as he could tear himself away, rubbing is neck.

"I swear, it's like we're back from the dead." Ron smiled. Harry smiled, clasping his friends hand and embracing him.

"It's good to see you mate." He said. "How are you?"

"Better, now that we're back." He said. "How have you been?"

"Alright." Harry replied. "I just wish I could be doing more. Any big news? I…" He started to ask.

"Hermione!" Ron called suddenly, jogging over to the stair where she stood.

He held her for several minutes, inhaling deeply.

"I missed you baby." He said as he stroked her hair.

Harry smiled slightly and turned as Charlie approached him.

"Hey Harry." He smiled.

"How are you Charlie?" he asked.

"Alright, under the circumstances." He sighed. "I'm just tired. It's good to be back."

"Any news?" Harry asked.

"More of the same. More bloody attacks we didn't stop."

"Who did you find out about?" asked Harry.

"No one I knew personally." He replied, "Not even people on our side."

"Who?"

"Two families. The Millers and the Bulstrodes."

"Wait, Bulstrode?"

"Yes. That girl was your age, wasn't she? Damn. You-know-who did it. Killed off the whole family. And people still follow him. Sick." Sighed Charlie. "Sorry to be such a downer Harry." He said. "I'm sure that's the last thing you need right now."

"It's alright, mate." He said

He just needed to figure out how to tell Pansy.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

That night he sat on the bench in the hall, waiting for her to pass by. She was a little later than usual, but maybe it just felt that way because he was so anxious. As she came around the corner, he got up.

"Pansy." He said. "We need to talk. Please sit down."

She looked worried.

"Your Aunt is dead. So is Millicent and her father, he killed them all, Pansy, I'm so sorry I…"

"I was expecting it." She replied calmly. "I hoped they would get away, but somehow, I knew this would happen. I didn't like Millicent or her mother, but they didn't deserve this. It's all because of my father."

"What?" Harry asked.

"He promised the Dark Lord he would do something, then at the last minute backed out and ran off. That is inexcusable in their eyes. That is asking for death. And if he can't find you, he'll kill off your family."

She had started to cry, her tears silent.

"Why?" she said "Why do people even follow him? Why did I think it was all some stupid game? I should have gone to you, I should have been everything I wasn't. I should have been brave enough to…"

At this, she sobbed into her hands, her body shaking as she cried.

"Hey, hey… don't do that. Don't beat yourself up." He said softly.

He found himself holding her, and she clung to him and wept.

"Harry I… oh!" Came a voice from down the hall.

It was Ginny. "Oh, I see." She said. "Well then." She turned and quickly walked off.

"Ginny wait!" he called. He got up to pursue her, still holding Pansy's hand.

"Ginny!" he called, and she stopped at the top of the stair.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ginny demanded, "Why didn't you say she's.."

"She's my cousin Ginny." He interrupted, putting his had on Pansy's shoulder.

"She's the only family I have left."

"Oh." Ginny stared at them both, at a loss for words. "I didn't know that. I'm sorry, I misunderstood, I…"

"We just learned of a family loss," continued Harry. "My father's cousin and her daughter were killed."

"Harry, I'm so sorry." She said. "If you need me…"

"I know" said Harry.

Ginny smiled sadly and walked down the stair.

Harry turned to Pansy, who was gaping at him.

"I didn't think you would want people to know that." she said in a whisper. Her eyes were puffy but dry.

"I'm not ashamed of you." He said. "Why should I be?"

"I was…" he started. 'My father…"

"I don't care." He said. "And all that doesn't matter anymore. You're here now. You chose to stay. You need to stop punishing yourself for the choices of others."

"Millicent and her mother were my family as well." He continued. "Voldemort is responsible for their loss. Just because of one man's mistake. You know why he killed my parents? A prophesy. It's disgusting."

They were silent for a time, just looking at each other.

"She loves you, you know." Pansy said.

"What?"

"Ginny Weasly."

Harry looked away.

"I can't put her in danger. For us to be together…"

"She would follow you regardless." said Pansy. "She has been. I don't think she'll give it up anytime soon. It's been six years."

"I was away for four." He said. "Right after I left school"

"It's obvious she never gave up on you. She'll stay with you until the end, regardless. Do not deny yourself happiness, while it is right there to be had."

Harry smiled at her. "And they said you weren't clever."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ron had finally fallen asleep. Hermione smiled down at him and ran his fingers through his hair. He looked so peaceful when asleep, like he was a child. As quietly as she could, she left the bed and walked across the room. Putting on her bathrobe, she headed for the shower down the hall.

"I see you've gone back to your pauper." She jumped at the question.

"Malfoy!" she said in a harsh whisper. "You've got to stop doing that!"

He smirked at her, in his usual stance, leaning up against a doorframe.

"You smell like him," continued Draco. "It's repulsive."

"Look Malfoy." She said, "Ron and I are together. What happened last night was a mistake. A big one. It didn't mean anything."

"He doesn't deserve you." Said Draco.

"Excuse me?" she leered.

"You deserve someone who is more your equal. Someone who…"

"It's really none of your damned business." She said harshly.

"Do you love him?" Draco.

"How dare you…" she started.

"It's just a question Granger." He smirked. "Doesn't take much to get you worked up does it? A lot like Potter. Now there's who I always saw you with Granger. You and Potter always worked in my mind."

"But you hate him as well." She shot back.

"He started that." Said Draco. "I offered Potter my friendship. First day at school, hell we weren't even there yet. I offered by hand and he refused it. He choose Weasley."

"So it was Ron…" she replied. "You hated Ron."

"It's nothing personal against the youngest Weasley son." said Malfoy, tilting his head slightly. "It's a family thing. Mine has hated his for generations. You wouldn't understand."

"More of your horrid fixation on bloodlines?" she spat.

"We can't help what we are. And that's another reason I saw you and Potter together. Both orphans of a sort, no close magical relatives, well almost so now that Potter has found Parkinson."

"What?" she asked.

"Didn't you know? Potter and Parkinson are cousins."

"Is that why…I thought he was becoming strange about her."

He smirked. "Part of him can't help it. In case you haven't noticed, wizards are funny about their family. It is a complicated issue but it all boils down to a strange draw we have. Sometimes I find myself staring at Tonks, dwelling on her. Wondering if that Remus Lupin is good enough for her. I can't help it. It's a family thing."

Hermione opened her mouth, but found she had nothing to say.

"Take your shower Granger." He said. "We'll continue this later." He looked her up and down and strode off, as she silently cursed herself for blushing deeply.


	8. Ginny

_I still own nothing. Oh well. _

She loved him. Even after all this time, she still loved him. She hated herself for it sometimes, being one of those pathetic girls who sat around waiting. Like some helpless princess in a story, who couldn't just get over it and save herself. He had rescued her in her first year at school. Gone into the deep caverns, fought a monster, and broken the evil spell cast over her. Just like a fairy tale. She had tried to get over him. Really she had. But she still loved him. And no matter the danger, she just wanted to be by his side. It drove her mad that he seemed to prefer solitude. What had happened to him in that time he was gone? She could tell her Harry was somewhere inside. Someday he would smile at her like he used to.

What had really crushed her was how she saw him smiling like that at another. Pansy Parkinson, of all people. It broke her heart to see him looking at her like that, as if he were falling in love. But now, well, now she had no idea what to think. Pansy was his cousin. He had never mentioned before, perhaps he didn't know? He had always wanted a real family.

Ginny hadn't failed to notice how the others treated Pansy like nothing; when she had done such a lovely job with the house. And Ginny tried not to be too quick to judge. She had made this mistake in the past. Too quick to trust Tom Riddle. Too quick to write off Luna, when they had been close as young children. She was well aware that first impressions were often deceiving.

After all, Bill liked Pansy. She didn't know if this was only because Fleur did; but Bill approved of Pansy, despite the fact, he said, she was somewhat uptight and shy. Ever since her brother's return, Pansy could often be seen in the company of Bill, Fleur, and Charlie. Charlie said she was funny and nice. This was not the Pansy Parkinson she remembered from school.

Hermione was still convinced it was all an act. That Pansy was fooling them all with a sneaky trick, using them until the war was over. But why didn't she have the same complaints about Draco Malfoy? He was far worse.

"Fleur?" Ginny asked one afternoon. "Why do you like Pansy so much?"

"Well, at first I felt zorry for zee girl. So alone in zis big house. I know how zat feels, to be unwelcome."

Ginny looked down, slightly embarrassed.

"Zo I would talk to Pansy, spend time in her lovely garden. She iz very sweet you know, once she, how you say, opens up. I think she iz finding it hard to trust people here. She never wanted to be part of zis war. And she is missing her mama."

Never wanted to be a part of the war? How could you not choose a side? But then again, there were so many who failed to come to the order's aid. So many that believed what the ministry said and so many to afraid to do anything but hide. Where were the Browns? The Moons? The Woods? All decent people who never raised a finger to help.

Pansy wasn't exactly contributing, not going out on missions or helping plan things. But she wasn't allowed to. She was sort of under house arrest, punishment for crimes she never actually committed. She was really in no man's land, traitor in the eyes of both sides. The more Ginny thought about it, the more she realized how heartbreaking Pansy's situation was. Why Harry had grown so protective of her. It made Ginny fall in love with him a little more. And if Harry thought Pansy was a bit of all right, Ginny would stand by that decision. She would prove to him that love could never be a weakness. She smiled inwardly at herself. Where was the little tomboy she had been years ago? She knew that little girl was still inside, cheering her on.

Ginny reaffirmed her resolve. She would remain loyal to her feelings, and remain loyal to him. This was all the more encouraged when, the next morning, she found a flower on her end table, and a note that said "With Love".

_Thanks again to my readers! _:)


	9. Becoming: I

_I'm back! But still, nothing here is mine_.

"**Let go your heart **

**Let go your head **

**And feel it now…" **

**- David Grey, "Babylon"**

"What do you dream of?" she asked in a sleepy whisper. "When you finally do sleep, you must dream. I know you are always stewing in your thoughts. What happens when they are in control?"

They lay together, her draped across his chest, him playing with their intertwined fingertips.

"Lately?" He replied, looking up at the ceiling. "Flowers. Light, and sky, and all shades of flowers. For once, it's lovely.

"Thinking too much of our own little prisoner?" she smiled slyly. He looked down to see her hair was now longer and dark, nose slightly upturned.

"Don't do that." He said sternly, as Pansy's features melted away. "It's very unsettling. And she's not our prisoner. She can leave whenever she wants."

"Hermione is convinced she'll betray us, but I don't agree. Do you?"

"No. I think she has her own agenda, but it does not involve betrayal of the order. I'm more concerned with your cousin." He said.

"I don't know what to think about him." She sighed. "I'm positive he wants the Death Eaters gone, but he's so… reckless. Never thinks about the consequences. Just dives into danger. It's like he doesn't care if he even dies or not."

"He has his own agenda as well. But for once, you two are fighting the same enemy."

"His mother never was a death eater. She was a bigot, but she would never attack if unprovoked. My mother said that much about her sister."

"He won't listen to anything I try to tell him." continued Remus.

"He won't listen to anyone. He's so arrogant, it's dangerous."

"But you trust him? He's no longer a child. None of Harry's generation are."

"He's my cousin." She replied.

"You've said this before. It's not much of an answer."

"You were witness to him taking the vow."

"But would he die to bring us down?"

"No. We are just a means to an end for him."

"But to what end?" he said in a whisper.

She looked up at him, with the expression of a frightened child.

"I don't know."

He held her then, drawing her into the crook of his neck, laying his chin on the top of her head.

"Just never leave me…" she whispered as she closed her eyes tight.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Downstairs the fire illuminated the sitting room, as two figures, no longer children, played a game.

"Alright," said the girl. "If you had one wish, what would it be? It has to be selfish too. If you could have just one day to do anything what would it be?"

He thought for a moment before saying, "Flying. I haven't been on a broom in almost a year. That's what I want. How about you?"

"I'd shop." She smiled. "All day in Oxford Circus. Just me and Sumita."

"Oxford Circus? That's full of muggle shops."

"I like muggle jewelry. And shoes. I bet all my things were destroyed when…" she winced. "I don't even know what happened to my house."

He felt uncomfortable and changed the subject.

"Who is Sumita?" He asked.

"Oh!" Pansy smiled. "She lives in India. We became friends as little girls. One thing I miss most are her letters, we wrote back and forth in school. It was nice, having a friend not in school with me." She said.

"What did you talk with her about?"

"Oh everything! Schoolwork, our mothers, friends, Draco…" she paused. "I used to be so stupid about him." She sighed.

"Was he kind to you? Somehow I can't picture him actually being nice." Said Harry.

"Sometimes." She said "But really nearly all he did was complain about everything. Sometimes I wondered if he actually liked anything! He was always going on about you, what he thought you were doing, how he could beat you out at something. It was really boring after a while. Potter this and Potter that, sometimes all I could think was, just marry him why don't you!"

He smiled. "I wasn't aware I had such a following."

"It was hard sometimes, all the Slytherin boys just trying to one up each other. It got old very fast. I just wanted to have fun. I like to laugh, not scheme. I just thought some people were so ridiculous. Like Professor Snape for example, always so brooding and ugg! I just wanted to ask him what could be so horrible! Not everything has to be so serous! Can't you really smile? Tell a joke? Take off the black and wash your hair!"

At this he laughed out loud.

"I made a mistake though. I began to make everything out as a joke. Just laugh, I told myself. Laugh or you'll cry."

"What do you tell yourself now?"

She paused before saying, "That there will be life after this."

"Where will you go?"

"I will go back to India I think. I was born there, you know. I lived there until I was six and my parents got married."

"They weren't when you were born?"

"No. That's why my mum went to India. I bet she was terrified and ran. Family trait I suppose." She sneered.

"I don't think so." Replied Harry. "Look at you."

"What do you mean?"

"You could have run at any time in the past few months. You have been free to run at any time. But you're still here."

"I need to find my mother."

"You could be out doing just that. But you're still here. That says something in itself."

"Harry," she said "Why have you been so nice to me?"

"I don't really know. It just feels good. It feels right. I'm just glad you're here and, you're so easy to talk to. I wish I could be more hopeful like you."

"Don't you have plans for the future?" she asked.

"I… I really don't know. I need to concentrate on defeating Voldemort though. I need to stop him for everyone he has hurt. I don't care if…"

"You could visit me in India." She interrupted

He grinned slightly.

"Yes. You'll visit me in India. Bring Ginny. See how very blue the sea is there." She said. "Promise me you will."

"Pansy I…"

"Promise me!" she said, almost urgently.

"Alright." He said, slightly stunned. "I.. I promise."

"There." She said. "Now you have something. If nothing else, you have to live to see the blue Indian Ocean. You made a promise."

She smiled at him and turned to face the fire, bathing in its soft glow. And in that moment, he realized she was beautiful.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The winter grew colder. Fires were lit throughout the day and night.

One night Hermione was walking to the kitchen when she heard her name called out from behind her.

"Granger…"

Draco was standing behind her.

"I need to talk to you."

With a jerk of his head he signaled for her to enter a drawing room.

The room however, was not vacant. Pansy was sweeping soot from the fireplace.

"Still at it Parkinson? Kind of pointless, don't you think?"

"You were asked to stay away from me." She replied coolly.

"I'm not Potter's to command," he replied.

"Then I'm asking you." She said.

"And if I don't feel like it…"

"I don't give a damn about what you feel like doing and don't!" She snapped. "You arrogant, condescending… do you have any idea what it's been like for me here?"

"So the truth comes out!" said Hermione. "Can't stand to be amongst those 'lower' than yourself! Can't stand the thought of serving and cleaning up for the likes of me, a dirty mudblood! Can't stand…"

"Stop it." Pansy replied calmly. "Please just stop talking about what you don't understand. I promised I would not leave because of my mother. I clean not for you, but to keep myself sane. If I focus on that, I do not dwell on the fact my father left my family at the death eater's mercy. That's what it's been like for me here. So please, if you have nothing constructive to say to me, please just act as if I am not here."

"You are nothing but a nasty little…"

"Please Hermione, just leave me alone." Pansy replied.

She turned to leave. "And also, I never once called you that word."

Hermione started to pursue her.

"It's not worth it Granger." Said Draco, grabbing her arm. "She's not worth your energy."

"Stupid cow thinks she's so righteous, I'll…"

"Annoying isn't it, that attitude? She's starting to _act_ like Potter."

"You're just as arrogant." She replied.

"And how about you, Miss I have all the answers and I know it." He said. "That's not arrogance?"

"It's not the same!" she yelled back.

"You're beautiful when you get mad." He smiled.

She looked up at him. "Draco I…"

At this he grabbed her by the arms, pinning her against the wall. She let out a muffled cry as he kissed her intensely, but she made no protest. Soon she found herself responding, winding her arms around his neck and drawing him in closer. He pushed her back up against the wall, her feet lifting off the ground. She gave in, hooking her legs around his waist as they continued to kiss frantically.

"A-hem." Came a voice from the doorway.

The immediately broke apart, Draco moving in front of Hermione possessively. Severus Snape was standing in the room's entrance, still holding the doorknob and looking stern.

"I just returned this evening. Interesting, Mr. Malfoy. How long has this been going on?"

"Professor please, I…" Hermione started.

"I don't see why it's any of your damn business." Draco replied.

"Still grateful as ever I see."

"I've done every bloody thing you've asked of me." Draco snapped.

Snape's jaw tightened.

"Fine." He replied. "Just know that you still walk on thin ice here. You are very fortunate I wasn't someone else."

"Miss Granger." He gave her a sharp look and a nod, shutting the door behind him.

"Oh God…" said Hermione, sliding down the wall. "What am I doing?"

"Don't worry about him. He's not exactly a gossip queen."

"What are we doing!" she asked, more to herself then to him.

"Talking." He said.

"You did not bring me in here to talk."

"Actually I did."

"But you kissed me! Again!"

"You kissed back."

He laughed at her look of pure frustration.

"What I wanted to discuss is you. It's been bothering me a long time, how unaware you are of the obvious."

"And that is?"

"How you're not suited for this. I can see it in your eyes. You're not meant to be cooped up, following orders. It pains me to watch, like a caged wild bird."

"Malfoy this is war!"

"Don't you want something more for yourself?" he continued. "So much has changed in the past few years, why does it have to go back to the way things were? Think about it. If you were the one to defeat the dark lord…"

"What are you getting at?" she stared up at him.

"You have so much power Hermione." Him saying her first name made her shiver. "Why not use it? We could do it you know, together."

Her mouth dropped. "You are mad…" she started.

"Am I? Think about it. If we were to stop the Death Eaters, think of how celebrated we would be. Think of how much influence we would gain. I know there's so much you want to change, you could finally have the power to do it."

"I… I could never do that to Harry. To anyone here"

"Do what? Save them?" He asked. "Who says Potter has to be the one to do it? Why do we all have to support what he says? And I've heard all that prophesy rubbish and I think that's all it is. Complete rubbish."

She stared up at him, fixated by the intensity in his eyes. "We could do it, you know we could."

"Why me?" she said.

"Because you're everything I need" he whispered as he brought her face to his as they kissed.


	10. Becoming: II

And then, nothing. Nothing new was happening. No attacks, no news, nothing. Harry secretly hoped the others were as restless as he.

Harry had begun to regularly seek Pansy out, going to see her instead of waiting for their paths to cross in the halls.

One day, as he was walking towards her garden, he again heard familiar music.

'_Baby you can drive my car, yes I'm gonna be a star, baby you can drive my car, and baby I love you…'_

He stood in the doorway to find Pansy was sitting on her knees in front of some pots of dirt eyes closed, head bobbing back and fourth with the beat.

Charlie Weasley was watching her and smiling, sitting across from her.

Apparently he was not alone in visiting Pansy.

"Hello Harry." Charlie said, looking up at him.

Pansy's eyes shot open.

"Oh Harry, Hello! Would you like to help repot the ferns?"

"Where did you get the record player?" Harry asked, pointing at the old machine in the corner.

"Oh it's Professor Lupin's." replied Pansy. "But Charles gave me the record. For the plants, I mean."

"The plants?"

"Music is very good for plants." said Charlie.

"I wasn't aware you were a fan of the classics." Harry replied.

"Pansy told me she loved this music."

"And that was weeks ago!" Pansy beamed. "And Charles remembered and everything!" She turned to him smiling.

Harry's eyes narrowed at this, at the way she was looking at him. At the way he was looking at her.

"Actually, I would like to talk with Charlie." The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them.

"Um, let's walk" said Harry. He would have to say something now.

Pansy frowned as Charlie got up and followed Harry.

As soon as they were out of earshot Harry began.

"Making friends?"

"She's something, isn't she? Witty as anything too, the twins would love it! And that smile…"

"You know what she's been through right? I won't see her hurt again." Harry's voice was suddenly harsh.

"Woah, mate! Why would you think I would do that?"

"I… I just think…"

"I like her Harry."

Harry looked at him questioningly.

"Look, she's told me her story, of how she was at school. She's pretty embarrassed about it all actually. But I don't really care about that. She made some mistakes, hers just, cost her a little more than most."

He shook is head and looked down. "How could her father do that to her?"

"I'm taking care of her now." said Harry.

Charlie tilted his head. "So, do I need your…" he smiled, "permission to spend time with her?"

"No, I…"

"I never recall you asking my permission about Ginny." Charlie's voice was abruptly stern.

"I…I'm"

"I was kidding mate."

Harry smiled slightly.

"But seriously, I do like her." Charlie continued. "I'd like to help look out for her as well, if that's alright?"

Harry paused, looking at Charlie who was smiling broadly. He nodded.

There was a knock at the door of the room.

"Come in." said Charlie.

It was Bill.

"Everything alright? Pansy's really confused. She thinks Harry is upset with her, and if she gets upset, you can bet Fleur will be as well." He shook his head. "Domino effect."

"Nothing's wrong at all." Charlie smiled. "We should get back to the garden. After all, I promised to help replant those ferns." He turned to Harry.

"You should help. Working with the plants is very relaxing. Makes you almost forget about… other things."

Harry paused.

"It would make her happy mate." He said in an almost whisper.

Harry then nodded, following Charlie back into the garden, where Pansy was waiting with Fleur.

"There he iz!" Fleur chimed, touching Pansy's shoulder. "You zee all iz well, no?" she looked at Harry with an eyebrow raised.

"Everything is fine." He smiled at Pansy, at her small look of relief.

"Come sit then." Smiled Fleur.

And as Harry joined the four of them, he could feel his anxiety slipping away, as if Pansy's little garden was in a world all its own. And as the music played and the laughter began he whispered to her, "Are you making this magic?"

She turned to him, with a serious expression and replied, "I thought you were."

_So sorry for the long delays and thanks so much to those who review! Much Love! _


	11. Becoming: III

Somewhere in the upstairs halls, a grandfather clock told the hour. Three gongs.

Hermione shot bolt upright in bed, panting and clinging the sheets to her chest.

"It was only a dream, just a dream," she told herself, gathering her composure. It wasn't the first time this had happened.

She looked over at Ron sleeping next to her. Her awakening had simply caused him to roll over in bed.

She sighed and, on shaky legs, headed down to the kitchen.

She found it was already occupied by Draco Malfoy.

"Bad dream Granger?" He drawled. "And the Weasel isn't much comfort?"

She frowned at him. How could he guess so accurately?

"He needs his sleep." She said. "And so do you, I never see you even napping."

"I find sleep too often eludes me. Lately I've given up trying."

She sighed. "That's not good for you."

"I know what is and what is not good for me, thank you." He replied, lighting a cigarette.

"Obviously." She rolled her eyes.

"I'm glad you're down here though. Sit"

She took the seat across from him.

When he offered her a cigarette, she surprised them both by taking it.

"Don't inhale." He said, lighting it for her.

"So how about these dreams Granger?"

"It doesn't matter." She whispered.

"Seems to me like it does."

"I couldn't even tell you what they're about. It's never that consistent." She sighed. "Just that they are so vivid that sometimes they make me wonder. Wonder what actually happened and what I dreamed. Wonder if I'll wake up and this will all have been a dream within a dream."

"Poetic Granger." He replied. "But I rather doubt I'm a figment of your subconscious."

"Well, if you're just going to make fun of me!" She replied, putting out her cigarette and standing up.

"Sit down Hermione."

She immediately complied.

"Really" he rolled his eyes. "You shouldn't be so damn sensitive."

"It's this place…" she said.

"Beginning to drive you mad?" He asked.

"No." she scowled.

"Of course it is." He continued. "All this ridiculous waiting around. It's idiotic."

"And what do you suggest we do then? Go out hunting for Death Eaters?" she asked sarcastically.

"Exactly." He replied, as if it was the only logical choice. "Strike them before they come after us. Not wait around forever for them to make the first move."

"That's not what Harry…"

Suddenly he was angry. He stood up, palms pressing down on the counter. "Do you think I give a damn what Potter says?! Like he knows anything more than the rest of us! This isn't just his war! And he doesn't seem too concerned with the state of things, hanging around with Parkinson and her stupid flowers."

"What do flowers have to do with anything?"

"He's in that garden all the time, meditating, or I have no idea what else. He's always thinking things over, second guessing everything. Well I for one am done with it."

He straightened his stance and circled around behind her.

"What are you saying?" she asked hesitantly.

He came up from behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders and leaning in to whisper, "I say we act now. Leave and end this. Now" He ran his finger along the side of her neck.

"Draco… will you… have you told anyone else?" She asked in a hushed tone, trying to speak coherently as she leaned into his touch.

"The only one I want with me is you. The only one who can help me is you."

He turned her swiveling stool chair around so they were facing, bending down so their noses almost touched.

"If you are really in, be ready. I'll let you know when the time is right."

He breezed out of the room, leaving Hermione wide eyed, still reaching out to touch his face. She fell back against the counter, and exhaled deeply.

Why in God's name didn't they print books with answers to the truly difficult problems?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Ron awoke the next morning to find Hermione was gone, her side of the bed cold. There was a time she would still be there sleeping, her face peaceful and hair in complete disarray. Now she was never there when he woke up. He always found her somewhere else in the house, busy with some task or another. She hardly responded to his touch anymore.

It had to be the war; he would tell himself, watching her pace and fret. She hardly ever let herself relax, even back in school; and there she was just dealing with the threat of poor exam scores. He just wished he knew what to say.

He sat at the kitchen table that morning, staring into space, when he noticed a stack of pancakes had appeared in front of him.

He looked up to find Luna, smiling dreamily.

"Er… thanks I…"

"I made breakfast this morning you know. But no one seems to want to touch it. They don't trust my cooking."

Ron agreed with the sentiment but picked up a fork anyway.

"Thanks." He said quietly.

"My dad always made me pancakes whenever I was really upset about something." She smiled.

He had learned long ago not to debate Luna's observations. He just gave her a small nod.

She turned to the counter and as she asked, "Do you prefer tea or cold milk?"

"Milk, please." He asked.

She returned with two glasses and a plate of pancakes for herself, sitting across from him.

"Thanks." He said.

They sat in silence for awhile, her reading the newspaper and him just staring.

"Luna?" he asked suddenly and she looked up, "What do you think of Pansy Parkinson?"

Luna frowned slightly. "She is nice enough, very polite, but sad though. I think she is very afraid to be here, to be part of this I mean."

"But you don't think she's… well fake?"

"You agree with Hermione then?" Luna asked.

"That's the thing, I don't even know if I do. I feel like I should, but…"

"I do not think Hermione hates Pansy that much." Luna cut in. "She is just tired, and frustrated, and scared. And right now Pansy is an easy target to take it out on."

"So you trust Pansy?" asked Ron

"I have no reason not to."

He knew he didn't either.

He ate as he thought about it, about how jumpy Hermione had been since he had returned, how she seemed so tense all the time and how fast she could become irritated. Was she starting to loose her edge, frustration taking over? Luna's simple observations were to date, never wrong.

"What do you think I should do?" he asked, then wondering why he thought she would know.

She looked to the side, thinking, before answering, "I don't think there's anything you can do. I think this is one of those things someone has to figure out on their own. If you say anything to her, she'll just be mad at you as well."

He nodded in agreement, rolling his eyes at the thought of Hermione's reaction.

Again, Luna had hit the nail dead on.

She looked down at her paper.

He watched her then, reading, as she brushed loose hairs off her face, only to have them fall back seconds later. For the first time in weeks, he smiled.

"You know," he said, holding up a forkfull of pancakes, causing her to look up, "These aren't half bad."


	12. Becoming: IV

_I still own nothing here. _

Only two days has passed since Draco's announcement and Hermione was more on edge than ever.

She found herself snapping at people for no real reason, annoyed at the slightest interruption to her thoughts.

It was on that second night, after what felt like eternity, Draco summoned her quickly into a vacant sitting room.

He had looked excited. "I'm out of her tonight Granger. This is it."

"Why…"

"They're on the move. We just received new information. No one else realizes it yet, but I know where he's going and I intend to beat him there. I know the place well." He smiled wickedly.

"How?"

"They're going to my old home."

"Draco I…" And suddenly logic resurfaced. "This sounds like a trap, I think…"

He silenced her, placing a finger over her mouth and leaning in.

"This is it Hermione. I'm ending this thing now. If you are with me, be in the front parlor at midnight." He kissed her quickly, not even giving hr time to respond, before breezing out of the room.

She sighed heavily, moving closer to the dying embers of the fire.

"Well, I can't say I'm not surprised." Hermione whirled around to face the voice.

Pansy had been resting on the high-backed coach in the middle of room.

"You little…. You were spying on us!" Hermione yelled, her faced fixed with surprise and rage.

"It's not my fault you came into this room."

"Why didn't you sit up?"

"Would it have made any difference?"

Hermione scowled at her.

"He's very alluring isn't he?" Pansy said, looking in the direction Draco has left in. "That confidence, that old world appeal, and something you can't quite describe, it just draws you in. I remember." She turned back to Hermione. "I met him first day of school, he defended me against Millicent. He was the first person I can remember sticking up for me. I thought he was so handsome, and confident. There I was in an enchanted castle with a prince to defend me. He used to be good to me." She smiled sadly. "But he was never really who I thought he was. It was all fake, the daydream of a silly girl." Pansy was suddenly looking down, not the floor, but her own hands. "Magic is like that though, illusions. Smoke and mirrors, it's so hard to tell what is real."

She turned to leave.

"Pansy, wait."

Pansy turned to face her.

"If you say a thing to Harry…"

"It is none of my business to do that. What you choose to do is your decision. But don't imagine a happy ever after. No magic in the world can make that real."

"What happened to you? Why won't you just drop the sad little act?" asked Hermione suddenly, angrily, her frustration finally spilling out. "What happened to the nosy, bossy, horrible girl I knew from school?"

"Is that what's been bothering you? Why I don't act like I'm fourteen anymore?"

"Well, you're a Syltherin and so many nasty comments, and Witch Weekly, and…"

"That was eight years ago."

"Aren't you even sorry?"

"I'm sorry if I've had more on my mind then that."

"You don't have any regret?"

"Yes." Replied Pansy. "Yes I have many regrets. I regret not standing up for myself when I was younger. I regret not listening to myself first. I regret ever believing anything Draco Malfoy told me. I regret being so horrible to my mother. I regret giving my loyalty to those who so easily betray, believing the illusions they created could become something real. Yes, I have regret."

"What exactly happened between you and Draco?"

"Just what I said. At first I was drawn to the danger. He would tell me things, schemes and jokes and what he wanted for the future. But in sixth year…" she paused, "By the middle of sixth year he began to scare me. I finally understood what he was turning into, or maybe it was who he had been all along, I don't know. All I do know is he was never really looking out for me. So I asked him to leave me out of whatever he was planning. All he said was, 'I never wanted you anyway.' We stopped talking. Then he was gone. I never saw him again, until I woke up here. That is the truth. The simple, unromantic truth. Whether you believe me or not is again, your decision. Just know, you cannot change him and you cannot save him from himself."

"Don't you tell me what I can and cannot do." Hermione snapped. "And there must be more to the story than that."

"Yes, but its no longer worth telling."

"The whole truth is always worth telling."

"No. Not always." She paused before saying "I think that it only matters what you choose. Not what you think about doing, or can do, but what you actually do."

Hermione tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowing.

"You think so?"

"I'd like to hope."

"And if you're wrong?"

"If I'm wrong then… then you were right about me. I was going to do it."

"Do what?"

"When the… when _they_ had me, they told me there was going to be a raid by the order. They told me I was to lead the order members into a trap, that if I did they would let me go, and my mother and I would be left alone. I was going to do it." She paused.

"But then, when I was waiting, I saw my face in the mirror. I hardly recognized myself, I was so bruised. Then I realized they have to be lying. They'll say anything to get what they want. Why should this be any different? I'm so sick of liars." Pansy's hands had balled into tight fists, her face fixed with anger. "So I told the truth, and told professor Lupin about the trap. So now I'm here. Now they'll kill me because I betrayed them."

"You're wrong." whispered Hermione. "You never betrayed them."

Pansy stared at her.

"You were never on their side to begin with. You were always just looking out for yourself, putting yourself first. That's all you can do, isn't it? All you care about is your own stupid neck." She snapped.

Pansy stepped back at this, her eyes watering around the edges.

"Fine then." Pansy whispered and turned, walking quickly out of the room.

Hermione stood there for a moment and then realized what had just really occurred.

She had finally come full circle, making Pansy Parkinson feel like filth. She should have felt good, victorious even. But as she stood there, realizing she was becoming what she so despised, she was empty. And suddenly she felt very alone.

_Thanks again to my lovely readers:)_


	13. Luna

_I still don't own anything here._

Watch carefully. Look closely or the world will pass you by. There is so much that people miss just because they are just moving too fast, always thinking about what comes next. You miss the best parts of life that way.

Her mother had told her this. She wanted to say in those words exactly by it was hard to be sure. Sometimes she wondered if her memories were really hers or if they had been borrowed, stories others told her that her mind tricked her into thinking that she really remembered. Sometimes it was hard to even recall her mum's face. But that piece of advice had stayed with her. She held on to it desperately, and spent her young life watching.

It came to the point where she simply could not figure out how others did not see what was so… obvious. Why they seemed so surprised when she pointed it out. With this, she came to believe that they were simply ignoring what was right in front of them and that it was her duty to point it out. She believed that someday they would realize that, and that they only called her crazy because she was the only one who wasn't ignoring the truth.

Luna believed in many things she had never seen for herself but she was never one to pretend reality just didn't exist, no matter how ugly.

One thing did throw her off though. She had been watching for so long it was a bit unsettling when someone began to pay special attention to her. It was unusual and it always caught her off guard.

It was small things in retrospect, but at the time they seemed like the grandest of gestures.

Once, coming backwards off a stepladder she felt a large pair of hands around her waist, guiding safely her to the floor. She turned around to find Ron Weasley, who gave her a nod and said, "Don't want to fall and crack your pretty head."

Another time was after a reconnaissance mission they had both been sent on. They had passed by a muggle vendor cart selling valentines roses. Ron had stopped in front of it and Luna had been sent back to hurry him along.

Luna was touching his arm when the vendor asked, "Something for the Lady?"

"Oh!" said Luna, "He's not…"

"One please." Ron had interrupted.

"I thought it suited you." He had smiled, tucking the flower into one of her coat buttonholes.

She had noticed how unusual he had been acting lately. And no one it seemed wanted to deal with that, least of all Hermione.

Those two hardly spoke anymore, if it wasn't an argument. An argument like the one she was overhearing through the door right at that moment. She couldn't tell exactly what they were fighting about but she had heard the name Draco.

"He's taken the vow Ronald!"

"And you think that means anything to him!"

"It's not like he can give away headquarters! He'll die if he breaks it, you know that! Die if he leaks any information or even speaks about it to anyone outside the order! He cannot even contact his own mother!"

"Am I hearing you? You actually feel sorry for him?! After everything he did?!"

"He was Voldemort's puppet!"

"I cannot believe you're still defending him!"

"I'm just trying to make you understand!"

"I can't even deal with this right now! I can't even listen to this!"

"Ronald you're being childish! Ron!"

He came bursting through the sitting room door, kicking the stone fireplace hard.

He stared down at the fire for so long she wasn't sure he realized she was sitting there.

But all of a sudden he said, "Sorry you had to hear that."

"It's… it's none of my business." She replied.

"We argue so much lately that sometimes I forget I haven't used a silence charm."

Luna looked down.

"I just don't understand her anymore." He continued. "She's become so… I can't even explain it. I worry about her, and then she blows up at me. She seems to be almost, against me. I haven't had a proper sleep since I've been back, you know."

"But you love her."

"Yes." He sighed, "I do"

"Then that's all that should matter."

"I wish that were true. I thought… When we finally got together I thought it would be perfect. That all of our issues and all the other people would just fade away, that we could stay in our own little protected world. That lasted all of two minutes." He rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry to bother you with all this." He said quietly.

"It's no bother at all." She smiled. "But maybe it's not me you should be talking to."

"You listen though." He replied. "You make it easy."

She smiled slightly.

"I'm sick of fighting." He continued. "With this war, I didn't expect to face another kind of fight. I'm just… tired." He fell down next to her on the couch, head in his hands.

They sat in silence for a while, and without realizing it, Luna had begun to sing quietly. It was a small, slow tune that popped into her head whenever she felt sad.

Ron looked up her and she stopped.

"You don't have to stop." said Ron. "You… you have a pretty voice."

She smiled broadly at this, before saying, "You're the only person besides my father to have told me that."

"Well, how many people have heard you sing?" he asked.

Luna turned to the fire before starting again, quietly at first but progressively louder.

"_Well I've been 'fraid of changing, cause I've built my life around you… but time makes you bolder, children get older, and I'm getting older too..." _

She noticed Ron had closed his eyes, head reclined.

"_So, take this love, take it down. If you climb a mountain and you turn around. If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills, well the landslide will bring it down, and if you see my reflection in the snow… covered… hills… well, maybe, the landslide will bring it down… well the landslide… will bring it down_…"

She continued to sing even after he had fallen asleep.

_Thanks again so much to my lovely readers! _


	14. All the Lights in London: I

_I still own nothing here._

**Time won't leave me as I am  
But time won't take the boy out of this man...**

**I'm getting ready to leave the ground **

- U2, "City of Blinding Lights"

Hermione sat in the foyer, pretending to read but glancing at her watch about every thirty seconds, her patience completely gone. She had to stop him.

She was so caught up in this that she didn't notice Draco until he was standing behind her, ready for their departure.

He was the one surprised this time, as she threw her arms around him.

"It's a trap; I know it's a trap. Please, don't do this."

"He needs to pay." He said as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "He needs to pay for using me, pay for the lives he's trampled on. Pay for benefiting from the sacrifice of those who believed his lies."

"I don't want you to go." She whispered. "We need you here…"

"We?" He asked, holding her so she faced him.

She sighed, "I don't quite understand what exactly has been going on between us in the past few weeks, but…"

"I was hoping you could tell me." He replied. "When I look at you, when I touch you, it all feels… real. I feel like things matter. Like I can do something that will make a damn difference."

She reached out a hand to touch his face, cupping his cheek in her palm. He placed his hand over it.

She exhaled sharply.

"What am I to you?" She asked

"You… you are what I still need to define."

She looked up at him for a while before turning her gaze to the floor.

"Draco, I can't go with you." She said finally. She was almost in tears, eyes red and vision blurred. "You have to find me a true answer before I can go with you. You need to give me something real."

He looked down at her for what seemed like forever.

"Oh for God sake, say something." She cried.

He reached down, wiping the tears off her cheeks.

"I'm going to do something worthy for once." He said. "Can you at least believe in that?"

"I…" she started, before whispering. "Yes."

"Just don't go to the manor right away." She then said in a normal tone of voice. "That's what they want. Make them think you're not coming at all. Can you do that?"

He seemed to consider his own restraint before nodding.

"And be careful. Remember they're expecting you."

He bent down so their noses were touching. "If you think so."

At this she kissed him, the first she had ever initiated. He held her face to his, deepening the kiss.

"Don't you dare think this is over." He whispered against her lips. "I'm coming back for you."

He cupped her face one last time before turning swiftly and walking out the door.

She stood staring at the closed door for a while before sliding down the wall to silently cry.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When Ron awoke, the first thing he noticed was Luna was gone. Wasn't she just there moments ago? He then realized that it was, in fact, morning. Light was streaming in through the window and the fire had gone out. A heavy blanket had been draped over him though, sometime during the night.

"There you are!" Harry's voice came from behind him, making him jump. "I've been looking everywhere!"

"Wha…" Ron started.

"Everyone's been running around like mad this morning… how could you have slept through it?"

Ron still looked dazed.

Harry rolled his eyes and sat down.

"Malfoy is gone."

"What?" Asked Ron, now fully awake, "He's…"

"Gone. Left some note about how he's through taking orders. He's gone to face Voldemort himself."

"That… lunatic!" said Ron. "That selfish, egotistical…"

"And the worse part is." Said Harry. "We could have used him around."

Ron sighed heavily. "So… now what?" He asked.

"Carry on, I suppose." Harry looked down.

"A lot has changed lately, hasn't it?"

Harry looked up at him.

"I mean… a lot has happened in a short time. Here we are wishing we had Draco Malfoy back. If you told me last year I was going to want that…"

"I know." Said Harry. "It does make you question what you think you want."

"Yeah," Ron replied slowly, now looking down at the blanket and thinking about nothing but that slow song…

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When Pansy Parkinson heard the news, she ran through the halls, not to see if it was really true, but to see if her advice had been heeded. She smiled broadly when she saw Hermione Granger sitting alone in her bedroom.

Pansy stood in the doorway, hand against the frame.

"You stayed." She said. "I'm glad you stayed."

"You were right." said Hermione, turning around. "I can't save him."

Pansy nodded slowly. But stopped as Hermione said,

"I think you were wrong about one thing though. I think he has changed. He's crazy, but he's changed. This war has changed us all."

"Why is that?" Pansy asked.

"You have." Said Hermione. "It's hard for me to accept, but you have. It's hard to see a person who hurt you as anything but."

"I can understand that." said Pansy.

"But you have changed." Hermione continued, "And I see now I have. What I want has changed. And, I think I owe you an apology. For what I said, about you being selfish. You were just trying to warn me."

"I owe some apologies myself." Pansy replied. "But thank you." She smiled.

"Still, I can't pretend I haven't done what I've done. I can't just ignore what I feel. He deserves a chance to prove himself. If he does come back, I think I'd like to give him that chance." Hermione said.

"So what will you do now?" asked Pansy.

"Tonks is headed out on a mission to Spain tomorrow. I'm going to go with her. I have to find my own way. I can't be just an aside of someone else's story."

Pansy raised an eyebrow, before saying, "I don't know if I really understand that." She sighed. "Harry is never going to understand."

"I know." Said Hermione.

"So, how can you…"

"You love him, don't you?" Hermione interrupted.

Pansy's eyes became very large before she shut them tightly and said, "Of course I do."

"Then take care of him." Said Hermione.

"So, this is goodbye then?" Asked Pansy. She suddenly, uncharacteristically, seemed unsure.

Hermione looked up at her and actually smiled.

"No. I don't think it is. I'm afraid we've become too entangled in each others lives."

"I don't think I will ever understand you though." Pansy sighed.

"And I you. Maybe we were never meant to."

The two women watched each other, both thinking of the questions that would never be answered.

"Good luck then." Pansy said finally.

"To you as well." Hermione replied.

Pansy then left the doorway, headed for the solar to sit with her flowers. The next time they saw each other, nine years had passed.

_Thank you so much to all my readers! So sorry about the delay. I had a difficult time making this chapter just right. _


	15. All the Lights in London: II

She was gone. At first he didn't understand what would drive her to go, just like that. But, as he thought about it, it wasn't an instant thing. Something had been wrong ever since he had returned. Something had been wrong for a long time.

He had tried to make her stay. He had yelled at her, calling unbalanced, unfit for the mission she wanted to go on. He called her self centered and reckless, and… all sorts of other things that she completely disregarded as she packed.

But she all she said was sorry. And the way she had looked at him, like he was just an old photo of a happy memory, lost long ago.

"I just can't do this anymore." She had said.

And after that look, he didn't retaliate. He didn't follow her. He just watched her walk out, listened to her walk down the stairs. He shut the door, before he could hear the others, wishing her good luck on the mission and hugging her goodbye.

He left out the other door of their… well now his bedroom. He need to be somewhere where others were not, he needed to be… and then, he heard music coming from down the hall, from Pansy Parkinson's garden. He walked into the doorway, looking at all color that surrounded him. And there was Pansy, hair pulled back, trimming vines that hung down from the ceiling and listening to old records, as if nothing was going on.

"You can come in, you know." said Pansy without looking at him.

"Oh, I, umm…" Ron replied, not expecting her to acknowledge him.

"Come in and sit," she said. "You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to."

She said it so simply.

He entered the room; looking around at all she had created. Harry, for one, loved her for it. But Harry also loved her because he had accepted her as family, and that to him was worth everything. Despite the fact her father worked for the Death Eaters and that she had been a Sytherinein and she had once helped his enemies, Harry had choose her over his proud ideals. And she had stayed. And then this girl, who symbolized all he deplored all that had made their world more beautiful. It was baffling.

"I'm just going to get something to eat." She said suddenly. "Feel free to stay as long as you'd like."

She took off a pair of working gloves and left the room.

Ron was about to leave himself when he heard someone else enter the room.

He looked up to see his older brother, who looked equally surprised to find him there.

"Hi." Said Charlie, looking down at him.

"Hey." Ron sighed.

Charlie then realized what was going on.

"Hey, I'm sure Hermione will be alright. She's very smart, and she can take care of herself."

"That I'm very aware of." Said Ron, almost sarcastically.

"I was surprised though, when you didn't go with her." Charlie responded.

"She didn't want me to." Said Ron curtly.

Charlie looked confused.

"We're over. I mean, Hermione and I broke up." It was the first time Ron had said it aloud and it was very strange to hear verbalized.

"Oh." Charlie replied, clearly surprised. "Ron, I'm sorry, I…"

Ron looked away, back up the purple flowers growing on the walls.

"Do you remember Olivia?" Charlie asked suddenly.

Ron shook his head, slowly.

Charlie shook his head. "I only brought her home once. Believe it or not, she was the real reason I went to Romania. I really thought it was the real thing. And for a few years, it was." He smiled.

"But this is different! Hermione's out there risking her neck, it is insane out there, you know…" Ron's head fell into his hands.

"Olivia left for an expedition in the Himalayas. She said she didn't want me to come. Straight. Like just like that. It was crazy and dangerous and… a part of her life she didn't want me to share." Charlie Sighed. "So I stayed in Romania, and she went off on her mad adventure."

"She broke your heart, didn't she?" Ron asked.

Charlie nodded. "Funny thing is, at the time I was twenty two as well."

Ron opened his mouth to respond but Charlie cut him off.

"I know it's awful now mate, but just wait. Sometimes we stumble into just what we've always been looking for when we're not even paying attention. He was now looking around at the garden, smiling broadly.

"I'll let you alone to think. But don't let this damper you too much, after all, we all need you." said Charlie, in a serious tone.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Pansy found Harry in the kitchen, standing at the window, lost in thought.

"Harry, I'm… I'm sorry." She said

"Sorry for what?" he asked, turning to face her

"Sorry for Hermione. Sorry if I was part the reason she left…"

"Hermione left because of Hermione." He said curtly. "It was noting you did, so don't think that."

Pansy looked at him sadly and he sighed.

"She's still working for the order. She's still one of us, she's just… She's just not with Ron and myself, and that's very hard. It's hard because she broke up with Ron and because she is… changing in ways I did not expect. Things are somehow changing now, and it all seems to be happening at once. It's not you, it's us."

"So you don't regret letting me…" she began to ask.

"You're the best thing that has happened to me in a long while." Harry cut her off.

And with that, to his surprise, she threw her arms around his neck, as her drew her in.

"When the time comes, when you leave here, I'm coming with you." She said in a very severe tone.

To this he could not respond but only hold her tighter against him.

_A big thanks to all my readers:) _


	16. All the Lights in London: III

_do not own Harry Potter._

As a child, in grade school, he was shown a photograph of London taken from miles above at a space station. He remembered being impressed by the photo, how much light the city emitted; an island of yellow and white in the darkness. He would remember this photograph years later, when sitting in divination class, learning about how the stars and planets were in charge his destiny. He would sit back and remember the lessons learned in that same childhood classroom, that the movements stars were dictated by gravity and laws of physics. And for all that he learned in Hogwarts, for all that he saw that contradicted everything he thought he knew, he still found himself rolling his eyes when hearing about the 'celestial fates and what they decree'.

It was moments like that he would always catch the eye of Dean Thomas and Justin Finch-Fletchley who, like him, spent their early years as Muggles. They would smile slightly at each other, sharing the understanding that burning balls of gas could never control their fates. Harry would later try to explain this to Ron, about all he had learned about the Milky Way galaxy; that Jupiter was composed of entirely gas, and the fact that Muggles had indeed put men on the moon. Ron had a hard time understanding this, about flying satellites and radio transmissions and other worlds light years away. He would sometimes bring up the satellite photo and Ron would just stop listening. Wizards did not have a space program. Nor did they use electricity, so Ron was again disinterested by the fact that London could be seen from outside the planet's atmosphere.

Year later however, when he told this piece of information to Pansy Parkinson, she was fascinated. She had never known that men had gone to space and never known that the moon still had decades old footprints on its surface due to the lack of wind. He had found she was very interested in all things in the Muggle world, from satellite photos to driving a car. She said she had always wanted to learn.

When he asked her why she was so interested in all this, she finally confessed.

"When the war is over..." She started, "I… I don't want to be a witch anymore."

"You what?"

"I don't want to have anything to do with Magic."

"Pansy… you can't just do that. Magic is in your blood you can't just deny what you are, the power you have…"

"What if I don't want it anymore!? I'm sick of it, people just try to use me!" she suddenly exclaimed.

"I've never done that." He said quietly.

"Harry… I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"It's alright." He replied.

"I just meant that I want to start over." She said.

"You can start over and still be yourself." He replied. "You are magic, it's something you were born with and something you cannot deny."

At this she looked up at him, frustrated and unsure what to say.

"Sometimes I wish I wasn't who I am, wasn't the one 'chosen' for all this. But people are depending on me now, so it doesn't matter what I want anymore. I don't believe in prophecies or destinies, but I do believe in doing everything I can to protect who I love. " He realized then that this was the first time he was admitting this to himself.

"It's just so unfair." She whispered.

"I know." He said simply. "What brought this on anyway?" he then asked.

"I was just thinking about what I'll do when the war is over. My wand is gone, you know. I lost it when they captured me. And I've been, well, just fine without it. Sure I can do very simple charms without it, but nothing big. And I fixed this whole house up without magic and it's the best thing I've ever done. So lately I've been thinking, why bother replacing the wand?"

"I didn't know your lost you wand." Harry said.

"It doesn't matter." She said. "I still don't want it back."

Harry remembered how she had wanted to leave with him when the time came. Without a way to defend her self... he didn't like to think about it. He knew she could not come with him, that he would eventually have to break her heart.

"Is that why you were fighting with Malfoy that one time?" Harry asked then.

Pansy looked surprised he had remembered that.

"Yes." She said slowly, recalling the conversation herself. "I told him that I was done being a witch, and he got so angry… But that's over now. For a second time, he didn't even give me a goodbye, but this time I don't care."

"Sorry I brought that up." Harry said.

"It's alright." She replied. "He's just someone I used to know."

She smiled then, and said. "He thought he was so clever, so in control. He thought he knew everything." She smiled up at Harry, "He didn't even know about the satellites, right above his own head."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Remus couldn't help but notice the change in Harry. No one else seemed to, already so occupied with their own work and thoughts. But he noticed. Ever since the war began, ever since they lost Sirius, he felt somewhat responsible for Harry, being one of his last remaining links to the past. He felt horrible when there was information he could not tell Harry, and that he had to be left out of so much. He also knew the end was looming, and that, while the others would not approve he wanted to go with Harry to face Voldemort, in the end. He knew many of the others were loosing hope and, from time to time, he felt his own faith slipping as well.

The mission Tonks had gone on, to Spain, was to be the last before they faced him. He wasn't sure how he felt about Hermione going as well but after the two women talked in private, Tonks had insisted Hermione come along. Tonks held him for a long time before she left, repeating over and over that they would se each other soon. Part of him knew it was for the best though. He didn't want her to be there when he left with Harry. He wished she had told him why she had let Hermione go with her but then again, he too was guilty of keeping secrets from those he loved. He had realized long ago that no matter how dependant members of the order were on each other, no matter how much they trusted one another, there would still always be secrets. There would always be parts of their lives, things they did or saw, that would remain locked away.

But Harry, Harry now had a true confidant; a person who he could be open with, a person who he could talk to without reservation. Remus had one thought it was a mistake bringing Pansy to headquarters but now he saw it was one of the best decisions he had ever made. The change in Harry's attitude since was astounding. Because of Pansy Harry was more mature. Because of her Harry was focused and self-assured. Because of her Harry was ready to face what he had to. All because he loved her. And that gave Remus all the hope in the world.

_Another big thanks to all my readers who have been sticking with me! _


	17. All the Lights in London: IV

_Just a quick note: It's been such a while! Sorry for my delay, but in rereading everything I realized that the ending needed to be rewritten. And traveling as much as I have been this summer has not been helping. Anyway, I'd just like to thank my readers for their patience and lovely feedback. I hope you all enjoy the way I've decided to go. Thanks and much love!_

_Also I am very much in anticipation for Saturday, as it is not only the book release but my birthday. A very nice gift if you ask me _:)

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

He shouldn't be doing this. He should just focus on his rage and determination head straight for his destination. He should not second guess his decisions. He should not stew about in his thoughts, staring at nothing. That was what Potter was busy doing and it was one of the top reasons he had gone out on his own. But here he was, immobile and questioning himself, staring at the churning river below. It was dusk, but the world around him was staying illuminated by thousands of lights, from the boats below all the way to the tops of the buildings that surrounded him. He was surrounded by people as well, but despite all the light and company, he had never felt so alone.

It wasn't like he needed any help, he told himself. Far from it. He knew where he had to do and exactly how to get there. Take a muggle coach bus to the place he grew up, that was now infested enemies he had once thought of as kin.

How did it come to this?

He straightened himself, placing his hands on the railing firmly. None of this was his fault though, he then thought. He was the one that had been lied to, used, and betrayed. He had wasted his energy on someone who marked him for death. Again he was full of rage, and fueled by this, moved on, walking determinedly across the bridge. This was the right choice. He didn't need anyone else. He was unstoppable.

He kept repeating this to himself all the way into the station.

His concentration was only broken when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a girl with wild brown curls. Could she have come? He twirled to follow her as she stopped suddenly. He was about to reach out for her when she pulled something out of her shoulder bag and held it to her ear.

"Hey!" she piped cheerfully into the device. "Yes, I'm in Victoria station. No. About twenty minutes." She spoke loudly in an American accent. "Alright. I'll call you then. You too. Bye."

She turned then, and seeing him standing there asked. "Can I help you?" She asked. Her eyes were exaggerated by dark makeup.

"No." he replied. "I just… I thought you were someone else."

She smiled slightly. "It's alright. Crowded this evening." She said, zipping back up her bag and walking off.

He was surprised at himself, how excited he had been when, if only for a moment, he thought she was there.

He hadn't meant to get so attached.

It had been an attraction to power really. He had always been attracted to power. But then she truly fascinated him, and he wished he had had more time…and there he was, thinking too much again. He shook off the feeling and strode on. He had a bus to catch.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Pansy sighed, touching a begonia gently.

"Would you call me mad if I told you I am going to miss this place?" she asked, turning to Harry.

He paused, looking around before saying, "Maybe a little."

She smiled.

"It does make me wonder though, what Sirius would say."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"This was the house he grew up in, but he hated it here. Hated being stuck here. I wonder what he would say about you fixing the place up like this."

"Do you think he would be angry with me?" she asked.

"No. Not angry. Surprised, amused I think. He wouldn't see the point of making this place look decent. He would like the way you frightened the paintings though." He smiled, but then looked down sadly. "I still miss him, as much as ever."

"I'm sorry." She said.

"You need to stop apologizing for things that aren't your fault." He replied. "And besides, I like talking about him. I like remembering."

"Do you think he would like my flowers?" she asked.

Harry looked around him before saying, "I think he would love your flowers."

"I'm worried though," she said. "When we leave, who can I trust to take care of them?"

Harry still had not told her his plan to send her to safety. He had not told her that he simply could not risk having her with him in the end. He could not loose her.

"I could get Kreacher to do it." Harry said, then remembering the house elf now forever in his service. "He'd be thrilled to be back here." Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm sure he'd hate the flowers though, so that's some consolation."

"Kreacher?" she asked. "And why would I want someone who hates them to care for my flowers? He'd kill them like that."

"Kreacher was the Black family's house elf. He was left to me, something we both could do without. He's miserable in general but completely despises being bound to do what I say. Unlike Dobby, who despite being free seems to love it."

She looked confused.

"It's a long story." He said.

"My grandfather had a house elf. He was passed on to my Aunt Gertrude, since she was the elder daughter. She… wait..."

"What?" asked Harry.

"Dips, that's what he was called, he belonged to Aunt Gertrude, Millicent's mother. But they were both killed… So that means he would go right to the next of the father's kin... the younger daughter my mother."

Harry wasn't following.

"But if my mother was also gone, Dips would have to come to me. But he hasn't…"

She was suddenly smiling ear to ear, looking up at him with elation.

"Don't you see what this means?!"

Harry didn't have time to answer before she exclaimed, "She's alive! My mother has to be alive! The elf would have come to me if she wasn't!" She jumped up with excitement. "He's bound to; no outside spell can stop it! Harry she's alight!"

At this she fell to the floor, sobbing with relief.

"Thank you." She whispered, looking up at him.

He placed his hand gently over one of hers and said noting, letting her cry her tears of relief and joy.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It was well into the night by the time he arrived. The muggle coach had not been as bad as expected; it had been a quiet ride, but then again, it gave him too much time to think.

Disembarking the bus though gave him a new serge of determination, one that, this time he would not let slip away.

Or so he thought, until he heard his name being called.

And there she was; hair pulled back, no eye makeup. It really was her.

He said nothing as she approached him.

"I didn't go to Spain." She said.

He continued to just stare.

"I was going to go, but then I couldn't. I couldn't just run away like that. So I didn't go. I've changed my mind. I just took me a little longer to figure out what to do.

"So… then you've decided to…" he started.

"Draco." She interrupted. "We can't do this. We can't just give up. We need to go back."


	18. All the Lights in London: V

_I __still own nothing here._

"What do you mean 'go back'?" He asked, finally shaking off his daze.

"You know exactly what I mean." She replied sternly.

"What are you talking about? How did you even get here?" he demanded.

"So much for a warm greeting." She rolled her eyes.

"So much for a proper answer." He replied.

"I'm here because what you're doing is mad." She said.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

"Malfoy… Draco," she said. "I've had time to think. Back at Headquarters, it was like, it's hard to explain… It was like my mind was clouded. It was like there was… a spell cast over me. I couldn't think straight. But as soon as I left, my thoughts suddenly came together."

He gave her a confused look.

"You have to come back to the order with me. We can't just abandon people who need us."

"Granger." He interrupted "If you think for a moment I'm about to crawl back to Potter…"

"This isn't about him!" she said, almost too loudly. "This is about you, you and me."

"The fact remains that you want to go and sit around that place again." He said. "You want me to let them keep getting away with what their doing; my insane Aunt and her demented friends… she who tormented my mother for years! Now they're in our house, laughing at my father's memory! I can't take it Granger, I thought you understood that!"

She looked down, squeezing her eyes tight.

"We can't win like this. This is suicide."

"Then I'll die reminding them all what honor is!"

"And what about me? What do you think they'll do to me? Draco Malfoy's mudblood…"

"Don't say it."

"I'm not going to die like that. I'm not willing to let you die like that. They won't care how you die and will never think of you as anything but a traitor. You can't change that and deep down, you know it. Please, come back with me."

He gave her an exasperated look.

"I'm not saying things should go back to they way they were. Too much has changed anyway. And once we come back together, they will all know."

"What exactly?" he asked.

"The real reason I broke up with Ron."

"You did?"

"Of course I did. I'm here aren't I?" she replied, frustrated.

"When you didn't come with me… when you decided to stay, I thought…"

"It was because what you're doing is mad and I was… afraid. Everything was happening so fast." She replied.

"You know I would not have let anything happen to you." He said

"You just said yourself you were ready to die." She replied.

"I didn't think you were coming." he said. "I thought you wanted out."

"Then why in the world would I have followed you?!" she exclaimed, causing woman walking by the glance over at them.

He looked at her, at a loss for what to say.

"We need to put this out in the open now." She said, lowering her voice. "No more skirting around the issue. I came here because what I felt back in headquarters, when you told me you wanted me. When you kissed me. I wanted to help you. I wanted to stay with you. I still do."

She looked at him then, her eyes demanding his confession.

"When I first arrived at the headquarters," He said, not looking her in the eyes, "I realized you were beautiful. I remembered how much you had scared me when I was younger, and how that fear had made me angry. I was still afraid of you, but now in a very different way. And I was still angry, only because you were with Weasley. And I couldn't' stand how things were operating there. I had to get out, but I knew I wanted you with me. I knew you were as restless as I."

"So why did you say you couldn't define what I was to you?"

"Because It's the truth." He replied. "Along with everything else I just said."

"It wasn't restlessness." She said. "I was afraid too. I still am afraid. Afraid all of this is turning me into someone I'm not. That's why I can't turn my back on them. That's why I didn't go with you. That's why I have to bring you back."

"What if they won't have us?" asked Draco.

"It doesn't matter. They need us." She replied.

"Then what is it that we need?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at her.

And for once, she had no words. All she could do was reach her hand out to him, and pray that he would understand.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Flowers. Of all things.

Walking silently through the garden, he was suddenly reminded of his mother. She too had planted flowers, but only in a small box in the window. He vividly remembered her sitting by that widow, staring down the plants.

"Why are you so feeble?" she would quietly ask. "Why can't you be stronger?"

He would wonder who she was talking to, the plants, him, or herself. These slumps could last for days at a time, when she would neglect the house and cry on and off for no reason. He never knew what to say it make it better. He never did figure out how to fix her. The blooming flowers would make her smile though, so he saw to it that they never died.

He couldn't help then, to pause by the lilies. Pink, white and orange, they filled the area with a distinct sent that made him fight off the pain. Why did there have to be so many lilies?

He reached out to grab a blossom, cupping it between his fingers before squeezing it in his fist.

"OH! What are you doing?! Stop it!" Came a cry from behind him.

He stood up quickly, straightening his posture and regaining his composure.

"I'm sorry professor, but you were hurting my flowers." Pansy said.

"They are plants miss Parkinson; they do not feel… pain." He replied, turning to his former student.

"Well, I would still appreciate it if you did not crush the lilies. They're delicate." She scowled up at him, smoothing out the petals of the flower. She proceeded to water it, as if this would somehow comfort the traumatized plant.

"If you are going to enjoy the garden professor, please leave to flowers in peace. If you do, maybe you can find some yourself."

He glared down at the girl, struggling with his self-control. He hated being caught in moments of weakness and regret. Like the time Potter had seen into his painful memory, it made him mad not at the past, but at the person who had unearthed it.

"You think flowers can do that, miss Parkinson?" He asked in a whisper. "Bring peace? Because somehow I don't see these blossoms and vines defeating the dark lord."

"That's not what I meant." She said, "What I meant was…"

"And don't patronize me." He continued. "You who has gone so far as to give up and reserve herself to tending plants and scrubbing floors. You…"

"At least she's made it a bit more pleasant to be here. The clean house and flowers are making everyone feel better, which is more that I can say for your sneers, Severus." Remus Lupin was standing in the doorway, arms crossed and face hard.

"Pansy, could you please go help in the kitchen? Mrs. Weasely could use it."

Pansy nodded and trotted off, smiling up at Lupin before she left the room.

"I can't believe you would talk to that girl like that." Remus said sternly. Snape scowled, as Remus continued. "Is it because she's James Potter's family? Because really Severus, passing the grudge on to Harry is bad enough…"

"That's not it and you know it." Snape replied. "I didn't even know she was related to the Potters…"

"You must remember Pansy's mother, Ophelia, James's cousin. A slightly older prefect who always let James get away with murder. Blood runs thicker than house loyalties I suppose."

"Why are you bringing all this up?" Snape replied.

"Just making sure old resentments aren't clouding your behavior. And I wouldn't let Harry see you treating her like that. Or Fleur, or Bill, or Charlie."

"Is that a threat, Remus?"

"No, just letting you know that I don't think they, Harry especially, will stand for her being treated poorly here."

Snape glared at Lupin as he left the room. He didn't think he would ever understand these people. He had done everything they had asked of him and still it was not enough. He now had to be _sensitive_ of how they felt for one another. The irony was too much for him. All he could do, he thought as he glared down at the lilies, was make it thought this without becoming one of them.


	19. Fleur

_I really just can not believe how long this story is taking me. Much love and thanks to those sticking with me!_

This was not where she thought she would be. It had never even entered her mind. If someone had told her this future years ago, she would have simply dismissed them as completely insane.

As much evidence as there was to the contrary, she was never one of those little girls who imagined her wedding, pictured the perfect dream day, the fairy tale ending. She knew she wasn't the fairy princess everyone saw when the looked at her. The concept itself was a little ridiculous somehow.

But still, this is not where she thought she would be. Yes she was married and happy and in love but she was also in the middle of a war. She was in real danger almost all the time.

Bill had told her more time than she could count that he wanted to send her away. Never in front of anyone else but at night, when they were alone, he would plead with her.

"Go stay with your parents; go where you'll be safe." She had stopped answering him. She wasn't going anywhere.

Hermione, that girl who had been with Bill's youngest brother, had left. She couldn't understand why she had just left like that, without an explanation. Where was her loyalty? When she had spoken to Bill about it he had just said there was probably a lot going on that they didn't know about. He said that it was times like this that he realized how there was so much he didn't know about the lives of his youngest siblings. About what had really happened in their years at school. Fleur still didn't see what could drive that girl to go. To her what was going on around them, what they were now in the centre of, was much more important then any of them or their own little problems and disagreements. But these seemed to still get in the way regardless.

She realized part of it was her own struggle. That she had to stop herself from getting mad at what she saw as the selfishness of others. That she had to deliberately stop herself from dwelling on what she had to sacrifice. She wanted a baby. So much that she ached whenever she thought about it. The unrelenting want surprised her. But she never told anyone. She never let herself admit it out loud, because somehow that would make the pain more real. The pain that made her hate almost everything around her. She wouldn't let herself be that way.

Her birthday was coming up. She remembered when she was young what a fuss her mother would make. How silly she thought it all was at the time, her mother's lavish preparations. She was so used to the attention her looks gave her, by the she was teenager it bored her. People would fuss over her and praise her and she could would roll her eyes. Now all she wanted was a party. To, if even for a few hours, forget where she was. She actually wanted the attention. She hated how it all made her feel sorry for herself.

The day she turned 27 passed without event. Due to the circumstances, this was a good thing. No one had been hurt. No one had disappeared. No one had died. They had made it safely through another day. Or so she believed until that night.

She was waiting for Bill in their room, where she had been waiting for a few hours now. Annoyed, she went to look for him. Why hadn't he returned? Where was everyone? What was going on? The empty halls made her uneasy so she began to walk faster. By the time she made it to the stair she was jogging. Stepping into the dark foyer, she gasped as all the lights flashed on.


End file.
